There’s a war on women. There’s always been a war on women. This country, that country. Well, by many accounts Denmark is doing a pretty good job with pay equality but according to what I read, it’s not perfect. Afghanistan isn’t a great place to be a woman and there are plenty of countries in Africa and across the Middle East where, if you were born with two XX chromosomes, your journey through this world is going to involve a dramatically different ride than your male counterparts.
It’s not a pretty picture in the United States, where women earn 82 percent of what men earned for doing the same job (2022 statistics). There’s been progress. In 1982, it was 65 percent (Pew Research Center data.) What’s weird, of course, is that it makes no sense. What’s weird is that it persists. The problem is fixable—pay women the same as men. There, done.
It’s also possible to fix the war on women when it comes to abortions and healthcare. The problem is fixable. Let women choose. There, done.
I happen to agree with Pam Houston—it’s a war. It’s about power. It’s about control. It’s about taking away basic freedoms and, as I’m writing this one week before the 2024 election, we might soon backpedal further. The issue isn’t about banning abortions only. It’s about monitoring women. Soon, it will be access to contraceptives and, well, five gears in reverse. Here we go.
“The problem is the dominant cultures’ radical fear of mystery, their incessant desire to control and often annihilate anything they don’t understand,” writes Houston in Without Exception: Reclaiming Abortion, Personhood, and Freedom. “The mystery of the land, the mystery of a woman’s body, the mystery of a polar bear, of a melting ice sheet, of healing ourselves and the earth, of God, of gender fluidity, of difference, of not knowing, of the precarious future, of our impending deaths, and of life in all its mind-expanding, soul-exploding, heart-annihilating array.”
Yes, we are afraid of equality. We must be afraid. What else explains it? There’s no logic to it because fear and logic don’t connect.
Then-Senator Kamala Harris in 2018: “Can you think of any laws that give the government the power to make decisions about the male body?”
Then-Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh during his confirmation hearing: “Um.”
There was a bit more to the exchange, but that was basically the response. There are no laws that keep men from making decisions about their own body. But the oppression of women continues and the negative spiral down is happening now, as Houston writes, faster than we can keep up. While many states are voting this fall to protect a woman’s right to abortion, we know they won’t all pass.
What makes Houston’s quick-read treatise is it’s so clear, so emphatic. Here’s the opener:
“For forty-nine years, five months, and two days, the United states Supreme Court protected a woman’s right to have an abortion. In other words, it protected a woman’s right to determine what happens inside her own body, and in the long winding road of her future, and in the shape of her one precious life, in the case of unwanted pregnancy. It protected this right whether she was twelve years old and had been raped by her father or another male relative, whether she was twenty-two and date raped after she’d had her cocktail drugged in a bar the first time she spent a summer interning at a nonprofit in a big city, whether she was forty-two and happily married and already had four children and the family budget was stretched beyond manageability, whether she was just dedicatedly single and entirely career focused and had thrilling unprotected sex with strangers every chance she got.”
Well, doesn’t that sound like a reasonable world? Raped by your father, doesn’t an abortion seem like a fair option to have at your disposal? Raped by another male relative, too? Same with the drugs in your drink or for any reason? Without exceptions?
Houston, who has strong concerns about global overpopulation and the ability of the world to take care of the existing eight-plus billion souls, let alone anymore human beings, walks us through each of her three abortions. She parses federal and state court decisions around the legality of abortions. She touches on the horrific abuse she suffered from father. She writes about friends and other writers she’s met on her writing journeys around the world. She quotes the brilliant Barry Lopez and the insightful James Baldwin, both to great effect. No surprise, Without Exception is written beautifully.
But it’s an acquaintance—a male acquaintance—who gives Houston the clearest insight of all, that male-dominated anti-abortion efforts aren’t about babies, they are about controlling women “because they fear the power women have, when they get together, when they are not overburdened, when they are free to organize …”
Houston writes that she knows she’ll be called an “angry woman” for writing Without Exception but that she’s mostly heartbroken that “woman’s bodies are still owned by rich men, that the earth is dying at our hands and we are doing too little to save or assist or even console her, and that many of those who wish not to contribute to the teeming masses who are consuming every last resource at lightning speed will now be forced, by those same rich men, to give birth to more consumers.”
Without Exception will take you a few quick hours to read. It’s worth every minute. There’s a war going on. Looking the other way doesn’t cut it. There is no neutral ground.